


Minor Machinations

by willowbilly



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men: Apocalypse (2016) - Fandom
Genre: Banter, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Kurt is a Darling, Light Angst, Minor Charles/Erik, Missing Scene, going to the mall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-09
Updated: 2016-06-09
Packaged: 2018-07-13 23:08:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7141964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/willowbilly/pseuds/willowbilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I got it under control,” Scott says, right as the cop car pulls onto the road behind them with a flash of red and blue lights. “Ah, crap.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Minor Machinations

**Author's Note:**

> To any Jubilee fans out there, I'm sorry if she seems ooc 'cause all I know of her is from the movie. Which is almost nothing because she was there in a freaking blink-and-you'll-miss-it capacity. And there are no actual scenes _in_ the mall, just the very short trip to it, but hey, there still might be enough for it to get Jossed when the deleted scenes for these dorks become available. So. Anyways. Enjoy!

“Do you even know how to drive?” Jubilee asks dubiously as Scott slides with what he no doubt thinks is cool panache into the driver's seat.

“Duh,” Scott says. He pats the sides of his jacket for something, and then starts to twist around when a brief exploration of his pockets turns up empty. “Uh...”

“You lost the keys already?” Jean asks, amusement pulling at the side of her mouth but failing to completely overcome the unease stirring in the pit of her stomach. It's been a long time since she's left the school grounds, and she can't shake the surety of her own instability, like she's a ticking bomb on legs, and here she is about to waltz into an unprotected, unsuspecting crowd, for _fun._

Then again, the professor has been really insistent about Jean learning to put aside her insecurities and trusting in herself, so, this little jaunt to the mall can only be a good thing.

And the fact that she kind of likes spending time with Scott has nothing to do with it.

Really.

Kurt appears curled in midair over the passenger seat in a puff of blue smoke and tumbles down in a somersault to land in an ungraceful sprawl on his rear, one hand held proudly aloft in order to jangle the car keys excitedly like a baby with its first rattle. His grin is blindingly large and white in his dark, narrow face. “Here! Here are the keys!”

“Thanks man,” Scott says, more to get Kurt to stop flailing with them than anything else. Kurt _beams_ as he deposits the keys into Scott's expectantly outstretched palm. His joy and anticipation is so pure and strong that Jean finds herself soothed by it, her hesitant smile spreading into something more genuine as Kurt's emotions wash over her shields like sunlight against glass, making her want to roll around in it and bask like a cat.

“Buckle up,” she tells him, leaning forward to tap his seat belt for emphasis.

“Oh, come on,” Scott groans, inserting the key into the ignition. “If we run into any bumps along the way he can just poof to safety. He's, like, the safest of us all.”

“The rest of us are buckling up, too,” Jean tells him firmly. Someone has to be the mature one here and it sure as hell isn't going to be either Scott or Kurt.

 _“What?”_ Scott exclaims, aghast. “We're not going to _die_ in a goddamn _car crash_ like _normal people.”_

Wow. They're all freaks, so they'll all probably die _freakish_ deaths. What impeccable logic.

Jubilee darts forward fast as a striking snake and flicks his ear. “Don't be a dick,” she scolds, eyebrows raised and lips pressed disapprovingly together as he cranes around to stare at her in disbelief through the opaque, shield-like lenses of his glasses.

“Being nice ees a nice thing to do,” Kurt agrees, nodding encouragingly, his big, innocent eyes trained with a heartbreaking amount of faith on Scott the Unapologetic Dick.

“Really though,” Jean urges wryly, and at her input Scott finally sighs in heavy irritation and sluggishly tugs his belt across his lap like every movement pains him.

Kurt rocks merrily from side to side as he follows suit, and Jean reaches forward again to tighten it around his waist. It restricts his eager bouncing a little but he doesn't seem put out at all, eyes fixed straight ahead.

“My dreams, they are all coming true,” he whispers in reverent delight.

 

~~~

 

It turns out that Scott is a terrible driver. Jean is not actually surprised, but seeing as none of the rest of them have had even the scant amount of experience as Scott has in navigating the treacheries of the open road, they're stuck with him as chauffeur.

“Left! _Go left!”_ Jubilee is shouting at the top of her lungs, and they swerve to miss a brightly painted van which honks indignantly at them as it speeds by.

“I _know,”_ Scott snaps, slouching far enough down that his shoulders are hunched around his ears. His knuckles are white on the steering wheel. Jean is digging her fingernails into the seat cushion hard enough to leave crescents in the leather upholstery and breathing deeply through her nose as she struggles not to upchuck, while Kurt, in front, is swiveling his head wildly around to glance at all of their faces in turn and seems torn primarily between caution and delight, his eyes manically bright, his spine ramrod straight and his tail lashing hard enough that Jean can hear it thumping against the car door.

“You don't seem like you know,” Jubilee grumbles, and then screams at Scott again as he fails to slow down or activate his turn signal as he hangs a sharp right. Everyone is jerked sharply leftwards. Kurt whoops and throws up his arms like he's on a festival ride.

“I had no idea the driving in America vas so, so... vhat is the vord?”

“Dangerous?” Jubilee offers.

Kurt frowns thoughtfully. “Vell, yes, that too.”

“Scott,” Jean says. “Seriously. Slow down.”

“I got it under control,” Scott says, right as the cop car pulls onto the road behind them with a flash of red and blue lights. “Ah, crap.”

“My sentiments exactly,” Jubilee says, right as Jean goes, “No cursing, children present.”

“We're the _same age,”_ Scott says.

“We're _all children,”_ Jubilee cuts in scathingly, mostly towards Scott.

Jean, to be honest, had been thinking of Kurt. His ebullient optimism made him seem more youthful and naïve than he must surely be, given that Mystique had rescued him from such horrendous circumstances as enslavement in an underground mutant fighting ring, but part of it had just been reflex due to the amount of time she'd volunteered to spend aiding Professor X in his day-to-day teaching routines. There are a veritable ton of young children within earshot at any given time at the mansion.

The cop car activates its siren for a moment, a loud, ascending cry like a very low-register whistle.

There are more important goings-on at present. She has to focus.

“Scott. Pull over.”

The car slows as he takes his foot off the gas and coasts onto the gravel at the side of the road, but he still hits the brakes too soon, the car lurching to an ungainly stop.

“Vhat should I do?” Kurt was asking, ducking down beneath the dashboard to hide, his hands going up to cover his head as though someone was going to hit him. “I am not going back. I _vill_ not.” He was starting to hyperventilate, the cop car rolling to a halt behind them, someone in a uniform opening the door, getting out.

“We won't let them take you,” Jean assures him.

Scott's hand twitches towards his glasses before he clenches it back around the wheel, tendons standing out with the tightness of his grip. “We won't,” he agrees, low and determined.

“Jean?” Jubilee asks, not nearly so worried but still with an undertone of well-warranted nervousness.

Jean grabs her hand in hers, squeezes. “On it,” she says, and presses two fingers to her temple just as the professor's taught her.

“Just stay quiet and still, guys,” Jubilee says, and Kurt sinks down further, apparently trying to become one with the vehicle. His lips are moving in a silent prayer, and Jean spares just enough mental energy to send a tendril of calm his way.

The officer arrives at the driver side door and looks them over. Scott raises his chin and opens his mouth to say something before Jubilee clasps a hand over his lower face, grimly ignoring his angry, startled noise of protest as she muffles him.

“License,” the officer says, and holds out a hand. Scott stares in consternation, but obediently doesn't move. The officer closes his fingers on thin air and brings it close to his face, eyes flicking back and forth as though reading or studying a picture very briefly before he mimes handing the nonexistent license back with a perfunctory “Thank you, sir.”

Kurt's head has slowly been lifting the longer that the officer has failed to notice his existence, and at this display he looks over to Jean, confusion being subsumed by awe. He starts to smile.

“Do you know how fast you were going, sir?” the officer is asking, and then he nods his head, lips pursed, in the ensuing span of silence, listening to an excuse which isn't there. “All right, sir. I'll let you off with a warning this time. I― yes, you're very welcome, sir... Yes. You, too.” He dips his hat and walks away, the soles of his shoes crunching against the gravel.

Jean holds up the mental illusion and the rest of them remain frozen until the cop car disappears around the bend, the trees rustling idyllically and birdsong echoing off in the woods. The tableau breaks when Scott surges out from under Jubilee's hand and gasps in a deep, exaggerated breath, and Kurt and Jubilee begin to laugh.

“That was close,” Scott says, and slumps over the steering wheel in relief. “Really, really close. Thank fucking goodness for your mind-whammy, Jean.”

Jean feels herself blush in pleasure as Kurt pipes up to tease, “Language!”

“Can I drive?” Jubilee asks.

“You don't know how to drive,” Jean reminds her gently, ignoring Scott's outraged _“No!”_

Jubilee flips her pigtails and replies, “I can't be any worse than newbie, here. We got _pulled over.”_

“Well, yeah,” Scott concedes grudgingly. “But at least I have practice. I can get us rolling. Can any of you?”

“New plan,” Jean declares. “Scott drives. He stays at or under the speed limit. We all bow down to Jubilee's knowledge of traffic laws, and if need be I'll use my powers to nudge us into the right lane.”

“Whatever,” Scott huffs, refusing to let slip the relief Jean senses he feels at not being solely responsible.

“'Bow down to Jubilee,' huh,” Jubilee says impishly. “I like it.”

“And! And and and!” Kurt cries brightly, jumping up to crouch on his seat and waving his hands around in the air to get their attention, “If the car ees crashing, I will zap us all to safety so ve do not die very sad and stupid deaths!”

 

~~~

 

They make it to the mall parking lot in one blessed piece, although Scott initially attempts to pull into a handicapped space on the grounds that their mutations are close enough to disabilities that they should totally be permitted and must be firmly dissuaded.

“The professor's _paraplegic,_ and this is _his car,_ right?” he argues, almost none of the enjoyment he gets from disagreeing with people showing up within his tone of voice. Outward annoyance is apparently Scott's particularly roundabout way of conveying fondness. But it's also how he expresses his dislike, so... it's actually kinda tricky to tell. Or it would be if she were someone else.

Happily enough, Jean is telepathic and therefore reading him isn't and never will be an issue. He's a tall, dark, open book: one point in favor of her screwy powers.

“The professor isn't here,” Jean reminds him pointedly, and gives him her best I-expect-you-to-see-reason-and-not-be-an-asshole face until he capitulates.

The second the parking break's on Kurt is out of the car, not even pausing to open the door. He just vaults over it before Jubilee and Scott can put the sunroof back up, and whirls around like a princess in a Disney movie to take in the depressing parking lot with its sea of vehicles, the road behind them, the curb with its litter of trash, and the stream of pedestrians flowing through the open doors of the big, bright, soulless corporate structure before them, his expression alight with wonder. He points and jumps in place a little, his hair bouncing as he looks back at Jean for confirmation.

“That ees it, yeah?”

“Yes,” Jean says, smiling.

“Ve are going in there?” he presses. “Together?”

“What would've been the point of driving all this way just to turn around and leave?” Scott drawls, and Jubilee laughs a little, reluctant to agree with Scott's deadpan, derisive sense of humor, but all Kurt hears is the affirmative. He grins, wide and unabashed, his tail whipping back and forth like a cat's as he likewise whips his head between them and the mall as he waits for them to assemble, practically abuzz.

“Okay then,” Jubilee says, slinging her purse over her shoulder and linking Kurt's arm within hers. “Here we go. Together.”

Kurt puffs out his chest, holds his head high, and strides forward with them at his side.

 

~~~

 

“So,” Kurt says to Ororo, as the dust is settling and she's still hanging around with every indication of staying. “You are a good guy now, yes?”

Ororo makes an interesting face, half a smile, half eyebrows scrunched upwards, and lifts one shoulder in a shrug. “Seems like it.”

“You vill be coming back with us?” Kurt goes on eagerly, leaning forward, his hands held up hopefully against his chest.

Ororo glances at Jean, who smiles reassuringly. She can feel Ororo's sensation of loss, of being adrift, and yet there's a tenuous furl of hope which echoes Kurt's, an honest desire to fit into a place where she can make a difference for the better.

“I think so,” Ororo says.

“Then ve can take you to the mall!” Kurt exclaims. “It ees like a paradise! Vhere you can shop!”

“I know what a mall is. I lived in Cairo, not some backwater wilderness.”

“But have you ever actually _been_ to a mall?” Scott calls from where he's lying supine on a pile of rubble, ostensibly recovering his strength. “Like, an American one. Where they serve slushies.”

“The blue ones are my favorite,” Kurt confides.

“Well,” Ororo says, displaying the first hints of hesitance, “I have been to a bazaar. Markets, you know. Never a mall.”

Scott pushes his lips out like a duck's and raises his hands, palms up. “There you have it. We're taking you to the mall.”

“To buy things?”

“Maybe,” Scott equivocates with a smirk, intentionally vague.

“It's way more fun than it sounds,” Jean offers, reaching out and resting a hand on Ororo's shoulder as she graces them with an exceedingly dubious look.

“It ees the most amazing place in the vorld,” Kurt assures her earnestly. “I have learned more in one day there than I have in my entire life. The mall vill _change you.”_

Magneto, having floated to the ground whilst tenderly bearing Professor X from the wrecked house in his arms bridal-style, pauses to stare at them all incredulously, apparently having caught the tail end of the conversation. “What on _Earth_ have you been teaching these children, Charles?”

“Oh,” Professor X says airily, with a desultory, dismissive wave of his hand as he beams smittenly up into Magneto's scruffy face, “this and that.”

“The _mall?”_ Magneto says, beginning to glare at them all. “A _magical place_ of _education?_ I don't think so.”

“Don't worry,” Jean says, daringly, as befitted the new and improved Fearless Jean, “you can come too.”

“This ees the best day of my life,” Kurt murmurs, with a soft, beatific smile, as, off in the background, Magneto and the professor begin arguing very loudly over the impressionability of youth, adult responsibility towards the enlightenment of said poor, impressionable youth, and the dismal failure of both the public _and_ private American education systems. “I vas kidnapped from the circus just the other day and yet this day I have so many new friends and ve are all going to the mall for slushies. Again!” He clasps his hands together under his chin and bows his head in thanks as Professor X stoops to insulting Magneto's fashion sense and laughs in his face.

Jean catches Ororo's eye and shares a grin. Things are indeed looking up.

 

 

 

 


End file.
